


don't take this feeling

by dimpleforyourthoughts



Category: CW Network RPF, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Best Friends, Christmas Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, Schmoop, Snowed In, grand romantic gestures gone wrong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-05-09 09:31:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5534774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dimpleforyourthoughts/pseuds/dimpleforyourthoughts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's crazy, what you would do for a friend. Jared Padalecki, for example, has hidden his true feelings for his best friend Jensen Ackles his entire life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	don't take this feeling

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the wonderfully talented [Podalecki](http://www.podalecki.tumblr.com) for the twitter x-mas exchange. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays Progya!
> 
> And thank you to Paula (inkorstardust) for the speedy beta job!

 

\--

_I just kept hoping, I just kept hoping  
The way would become clear_

_Please don't take this feeling  
I have found at last_

_\--_ the Alabama Shakes _, This Feeling_

\--

The phone barely rings once before Jared shoots out of bed and picks up, heart pounding a mile a minute.

“Please tell me your flight finally fucking landed.”

“My flight finally fucking landed,” Comes the sound of his best friend Jensen’s voice, hoarse with exhaustion and grumpy, like the end of the flight had meant the end of his rest. Which totally makes sense; it’s three in the morning, and a red-eye flight is no picnic to get off of, especially in the dead of winter.

“You’re lucky the plane found a quiet patch in the storm, it’s supposed to blizzard all the way up to Christmas.”

“Yeah yeah, get your ass out of bed and come pick me up before the roads freeze over, will you?”

“They already did about five hours ago, but I’m coming anyway. I hope you’re ready to go sledding, because we’re gonna go straight through coffee and to the slopes, okay?”

Jensen groans and Jared laughs out loud over the phone. Fuck, it’s good to hear his voice, even as he’s bitching and complaining. Jensen may have only gone a few thousand miles away for college—Jared will forever be a little bitter towards Harvard University because of it—but it feels like years of distance rather than miles have separated them. Exams and projects for the architecture degree kept Jensen swamped the entire semester, he hadn’t even made it down for Thanksgiving, but now it’s Christmas and now he’s home and Jared (stupidly, selfishly, happily) has him to himself.

He’s more excited about that than he should be, but that’s a topic for another time.

“Look man, it’s been a shitty month. Danni broke up with me just before finals, and don’t even get me started on how hard the actual exams were. I just want to come home and sleep for the next ten years and not get up.”

“No can do, buddy, I’ve missed you too much.” Jared tucks the phone between his head and shoulder, ignoring the way his heart had kicked in to gear at the mention of a break-up. Jared had been hoping for Jensen and Danni (Danneel, the cheerleader Miss Popular who Jared liked well enough but couldn’t stand as Jensen’s girlfriend) not to last past Thanksgiving, but this is somehow better. “But I can do you one better, and we’ll tone it down a bit. How about a night of videogames and breakfast-for-dinner?”

“Omelettes with bacon and cheddar?”

“You know it. Breakup meal of champions.”

“Be still my beating heart,” Jensen says dryly, and Jared smiles so hard he has to bite it back before it turns into an outright laugh.

“Alright Romeo, I’ll be at the airport in twenty. See you at the baggage claim.”

“See ya, dude.”

Jared tries his hardest to take his time getting into the truck (he sprints, not even changing out of his pajama bottoms and hoodie) and drives at the appropriate speed limit (but it’s an actual effort on his part not to speed to the airport), but the whole while his mind is buzzing buzzing _buzzing_ with excitement. He hasn’t seen Jensen all semester, and it’s been _torture._ Physical torture that exists in slightly self destructive behaviors like moping and eating far too many pints of ice cream alone on nights where they would usually share it. He’s missed his best friend like soldiers miss limbs, like the ocean misses the moon, and all other stupid metaphors used to describe that hollow ache that started up the day Jensen went away to start college, leaving Jared stuck behind, still in his Junior year of high school.

Here’s the truth of it, because Jared’s anything if not in front about the truth to himself and no one else: he has been, since the age of seven, hopelessly in love with his best friend. It is at this point a given fact of life, natural as breathing, as the sun setting and rising. Jensen exists and Jared loves him just for doing that.

Jensen has spent his whole life protecting Jared, from playground bullies to math tests. He helped Jared study for his PSATs, helped him score his spot on the football team after months of practice under the heat of the sun. Jared has grown up with the constant and undeniable presence of Jensen Ackles, all shades and manner of protective with a sly of wry humor.

At this rate, because there’s no use denying it, there is nothing Jared wouldn’t do for Jensen. If Jensen were in the hospital and needed a heart transplant stat, Jared thinks he’d voluntarily perform the operation on himself if he knew how.

It’s crazy, what you would do for a friend. Even at the expense of your own happiness, your own wants and desires.

Jared is seventeen, and he’s metaphorically sewn his mouth shut to keep from spilling forth the inevitable and terrifying fact that he is ass over heels in love with his best friend.

He’s quite literally become the gayest fucking cliché in the history of gay fucking clichés, but he’s made peace with it on the notion that if anything, Jensen never has to know, and Jared’s suffering will be stifled by the silence.

He manages to convince himself that separation and distance will do the trick, and didn’t even protest when Jensen got accepted full ride to Harvard so his best friend could have a normal college experience. He wants it more than anything, Jensen to be happy, and not be aware of the big hard-on his best friend since childhood has had on him since the day they met.

His best friend is straight as an arrow, has had a myriad of girlfriends all up through high school and heading straight into undergrad, which helps Jared with the whole miserable pining thing because at least Jared knows he’s got no chance in hell of ever getting what he truly wants. Still, he’s missed Jensen. Even just the simple presence of him, through silence, through stress, was one of Jared’s great comforts.

But now Jensen’s home for the holidays. And it’s quite frankly the best gift in the fucking world and he doesn’t even know it.

It’s dead-ass freezing outside, but Jared throws the car into park and sprints into the Dallas terminal, shaking snow from his shoulders and scanning the crowds for a tall, dirty blonde head of hair, or a familiar pair of bright green eyes.

“Jay!” He hears the voice before he sees the face, and Jared launches into the crowd like a bat in a cave, going off the sound of that slightly gruff voice and honing in on the source.

Jensen sets down his duffle bag and can barely inhale before Jared practically knocks him over with the force of his hug, right there middle of the airport. It feels a lot like coming home, even though Jared’s been home this entire time. He can’t help but think of the opening scene of _Love Actually_ —which is a good fucking movie fuck you very much—with all the couples and families embracing in the airport hanger as the Beach Boys plays in the background. If his life were a Christmas-centered Romcom, Jensen would be the one Jared chose to embrace in the airport, every fucking time. It chokes him up for reasons that are embarrassing to think about, so he grips Jensen a little tighter around the waist, not caring who sees.

Jensen looks so happy—flushed and sweating slightly with excitement, eyes crinkling at the corners and grin wide—that it breaks Jared’s heart just looking at him.

“Missed me, did you?” Jensen’s freckles still look the same. His hair’s a little longer, but he’s still the same. God, he’s still Jared’s Jensen.

“Not a bit,” Jared quips, and they’re off, elbowing each other the whole way to the car like there’s not enough room on the icy sidewalk for the two of them.

Jared talks Jensen’s ear off the entire car ride home, and even though they’ve talked nearly once a week by phone, there seems to somehow have been mountains of gossip that Jared has left out or forgotten, which he tells in blow by blow analysis, turning around to the passenger seat every so often just to grin in Jensen’s direction. And Jensen smiles back like a little sun emitting beams of light that blind and incinerate. Jared feels stupidly dazzled by them, like he’s in some kind of dramatic romance novel where the boy in the passenger seat is some hulking Fabio with an open shirt revealing a carpet of chest hair, rather than just Jensen, in his threadbare vintage Harry Potter shirt, unnecessary sunglasses pushed up into his hair and fiddling blindly with the radio controls.

Jared feels insignificant in the weight of how much he aches for nothing but this.

“Bad news though,” Jensen says some time later, checking his phone. “Mom and Dad are stuck in Chicago with MacKenzie for Christmas, all the flights are down until the storm is cleared.”

“Don’t worry.” Jared shrugs. “Mom will be ecstatic to have you over for Padalecki Holiday Palooza.”

“Actually,” Jensen cranks up the heater, keeping his gaze ahead on the snowy, dark roads, where the sun will start to come up in a few hours. “I’d rather spent Christmas just the two of us.”

“You know my mom will come busting down the door anyways.”

“We can go over to your place in the middle day. But it’s Christmas Eve, as of three hours ago. Let’s just…hang out. Sleep. Maybe play some video games. Maybe soak in a hot shower.”

“I’ll be caught dead before I share a shower with you,” Jared jokes, feeling odd as soon as he does.

“Understandable. No one can be in a shared space with my sweet ass for too long,” Jensen says proudly, and though Jared snorts, he hopes to god Jensen can’t see the flush spreading across his cheeks under the light of the dashboard.

“Sleep first. Figure out the rest later,” Jared mutters, and when Jensen takes up to humming along to Johnny Mathis on the radio, he thinks this is going to be his best Christmas ever without even trying for it.

\--

They sleep on the Ackles’ family couch underneath mounds of blankets and ‘Home Alone’ on the television, lulling them to sleep like a lullaby. Jensen makes it barely fifteen minutes in before he’s sacked out beside Jared, and embarrassingly enough, it doesn’t take Jared much longer to follow suit.

Morning comes on them with a winter wonderland, Jensen can’t even see out the windows of the lower level basement where they fell asleep. He blinks into consciousness, aware that his body is a lot warmer than it usually is when he wakes on cold mornings. Jared’s arm is asleep, and he doesn’t notice until he realizes that he’s somehow managed to taffy-wrap his entire barrage of limbs around Jensen’s torso and legs, his now-asleep arm wedged firmly underneath Jensen’s shoulder blades, as if some sort of fever dream had made then-asleep Jared resolute to fuse his body with Jensen’s.

It’s….not one of the more heterosexual things Jared has done in his time, but hey, it’s Christmas. If Jared can’t indulge in his guilty pleasure just a bit now, when can he?

Jared pillows his head back on Jensen’s solid shoulder, inhaling the scent of his sweat damp skin. There had been a sweater Jensen had left behind—by accident, Jared’s positive—and for those first few weeks, that sweater smelled just like Jensen, and Jared did everything in his power to preserve that sweater. It made empty weekends not so empty and days without talking to Jensen not as heinous. Of course, the scent of Jensen—his laundry detergent, the sweat that usually gathered around the collar and the elbow joints in the sleeves—had faded away into the rest of Jared’s house.

Having the smell again, as weird and semi-pervy as it sounds, feels like something special Jared hadn’t even dared to hope for. Over years of sleepovers and random naps at each other’s houses, there’s really nothing novel about this, but Jensen is warm and his chest is rumbling above Jared’s trapped arm and it feels, for just a second, if Jared tilts his head and squints, like this moment isn’t so stolen and rather something that happens all the time, the familiarity of it, the promise of it. He has to close his eyes against that thought, and how badly he wants it.

“Morning, Sleeping Beauty.”

There is something achingly wonderful about Jensen-on-the-cusp-of-wakefulness. A vulnerability in his eyes, a throatiness voice that speaks rather to softness rather than the usual roughness. Jared should feel guilty, he should, but there’s a safe bubble around the two of them in this moment, and to look up to see the small smile on Jensen’s face…it’s…

Even with his heart and feelings locked up tight, it’s still the greatest thing Jared’s ever known.

“Hi,” Jared says softly, and then, because he has nothing better to say. “I think we slept through most of the day.”

“Probably.”

“We should get you something to eat.”

“Possibly.”

“You should probably free my arm before it falls off.”

“Maybe.”

Jared swallows hard as the air between them—which is not a lot of air mind you, because they’re already plastered together under a mountain of blankets— and it’s charged with something that’s…that’s not something Jared’s used to. He panics in a fight or flight response, tries to tug his arm out, and Jensen grins wide.

“You been working out, Padalecki?”

“You wish. My swole is all natural.”

Jensen snorts a laugh at that, but his eyes are soft, _fond_ , in a way that Jared’s never seen trained on him.

“You okay there?”

“Do I not look it?” Jensen quips.

“I dunno, you just…you look funny.”

“Feel kinda funny, too.”

Jared, thinking it’s a fever shining in his eyes, brings a hand up to Jensen’s forehead, but their temperatures match. His pulse is a bit quick, but no more so than Jared’s. What the fuck is going on?

“I think you’re probably just starving, when was the last time you ate? C’mon, I’ll get you some food, and we’ll get started back on our Christmas movie marathon, shall we?”

“Wait a second.” Jensen snags him back down.

“Jensen…” Jared groans, whining but kind of loving it at the same time.

“Just—“

They’re nose to nose and Jared’s not _breathing_ , too busy trying to figure out whether Jensen is in some kind of fever induced attack of insanity as he reaches up and brushes Jared’s bangs back from his face. And Jared… Jared doesn’t know what to do in the face of _this_ : his best friend close and warm and touching him with rough but gentle hands, overheated from the hours spent hibernating. This, Jensen’s lips parting on a thought that he seems to bite back and rethink several times over before.

“Missed you.”

Jared can’t help the habit, because it’s all he’s ever known, and he doesn’t know how to adapt to this sudden crash course in a whole other language that has only ever occurred in his wildest and darkest thoughts. “Likewise, weirdo.”

“You cut your hair.”

“You didn’t.”

Jensen opens his mouth again and then bites his lip, and he looks entirely innocent but Jared knows without a doubt that it’s the most pornographic gesture he’s ever seen, no matter how unknowing it is.

“Merry Almost-Christmas.” Jensen says after a long moment.

“I’m sorry about Danni.” Jared says softly, and finds that he means it, even though his pulse is racing and there’s something heavy settling in his gut.

Jensen blinks at that, like he’s still clearing his head of sleep. “It’s whatever. Probably should have done it over Thanksgiving anyhow.”

Jared squelches a thrill of victory at that.

“You going after any other girls?” He asks instead, because this is what the Best Friend does. He supports his best friend, he helps his best friend get laid, and politely keeps his lips zipped and his dick firmly in his pants.

“Actually…” Jensen’s voice is barely above a whisper, “There’s been a change of plans.”

“A…what? What you mean?”

He watches, because it’s impossible to miss, as Jensen’s eyes drag down Jared’s face down to his mouth, before snapping back up. No words necessary, and suddenly Jared’s smacked in the face with something that is equal parts exhilarating and terrifying.

And for whatever, reasons, Jared’s not willing to face it, let alone believe it. The tip of Jensen’s nose is brushing his, their breaths mingling and Jared can’t face it.

He’s waited, dreamed really, of this moment his entire life, and he can’t face it.

“I’m gonna get dinner started. You take a shower and brush your teeth, and put some clean clothes on, will ya?” Jared says softly, and flees the Ackles’ family den like he’s on fire. He slams his head against the fridge, even as he gropes for the handle to get out the frozen pizza he’d stashed in the freezer.

Great. Fucked _that_ right the fuck up.

If Jensen’s implying what Jared thinks he’s implying there’s… it’s…. Jared’s nowhere near emotionally equipped to deal with what it means. He had resigned himself, from the very first day when Jensen started about girls somewhere mid-puberty, to a life where Jensen Ackles would be nothing other than his friend. It wasn’t even that heart breaking, in that there wasn’t even room to hope.

Jared liked cold hard facts. The unrequited love he had for his best friend remaining forever unrequited had been one of those facts up until about three minutes ago. Jared frowns, throwing out the pizza box and flicking the oven on, grateful that he did most of the grocery shopping a few days before, before the huge ass blizzard had swept through the neighborhood.

Was Jensen yanking his chain? Pulling some kind of fucked up prank? Or was he just horny and looking to get off after what sounds like a semester of hardly getting laid? And how did Jared factor into all of this? Last time Jared checked, Jensen had been strictly on the girls train, while Jared was on the dudes train that was going high speed in another, decidedly less straight direction.

When had this changed? When had _Jensen_ changed? Even with all the wild stories, Jared can’t possibly fathom how college is that revelatory of an experience that it can change the entire makeup of a person’s sexuality and yet…

And yet.

And yet he can remember being fourteen and Jensen skipping dates to hang out with Jared, which often ended in lots of angry phone calls from girls, sometimes a few public slaps on the cheek during lunch.

And yet when Jensen’s senior graduation ended and the caps were thrown, he bee-lined straight for Jared in the crowd, didn’t even give Danni a kiss until he’d thrown himself at Jared with a whoop of excitement.

And yet Jensen gave Jared all his frequent flyer miles for his birthday, saying that Jared could fly wherever he wanted, whenever he wanted, and Jensen encouraged that a change of scenery was ‘healthy for a growing boy’ with a joking smile.

And yet, Jared’s standing in Jensen’s kitchen making Jensen’s favorite food and smelling like Jensen and feeling Jensen’s warmth again as if he’d never left that couch.

When had this changed? The answer was never before. Jared just learned how to see things with a bit more perspective.

Jesus Christ, Jared was an idiot.

He springs into action; with luck Jensen will be preening in the shower for at least half an hour, because there’s nothing he loves more than hot water he can hog. There’s not much he has to put together for a Grand Romantic Gesture, because all the businesses in town are snowed out and the roads aren’t worth driving unless he wants to drive towards his death.

Still, he makes due. There are balloons in the pantry and Christmas lights that the Ackles’ forgot to hang and he gives it his best effort to set up what feels like some bastardized candle-lit dinner with Hawaiian pizza and unbaked cookie dough and several jars of nutella, marshmallow fluff and peanut butter, because how else are you supposed to eat cookie dough?

He composes some kind of grand gesture, but when Jensen enters, still toweling his hair, wearing a pair of loose jeans and a Henley that looks so good on him it’s almost sinful, well, all plans of any sort of gesture go out the window.

“What’s all this?” Jensen says, looking at the twinkling Christmas lights crookedly hanging in stands all over the kitchen, the pointed mistletoe dangling over the arch way of the kitchen.  


“Um.” Jared’s sweating again, and his stomach is churning, even as he takes out the pizza and focuses all his attention into cutting slices. “I think this was supposed to be a grand gesture.”

“A grand gesture,” Jensen says, a bit cautiously.

“Yes, but um, now I realize that I may have… possibly jumped the gun. And that I was very much misinterpreting everything that just happened all of an hour ago on the couch so… uh… this is just Christmas. No grand gesture. Christmas Eve dinner. With mood lighting. And uh, joke mistletoe.”

“I see,” Jensen says, and for the _life_ of him Jared can’t pick up on the tone in his voice. Is he happy? Cautious? Sad? Relieved? Jared feels like a goddamn disaster and he hasn’t even said anything truly incriminating.

“And if I wanted it to be a grand gesture?” Jensen asks after a moment.

Jared chokes on air. “Um. What?”

“And if I was serious about a change of plans. If that change of plans meant that I was going to stop lying to myself because it’s Christmas and I deserve to be selfish, even if just for a bit. If that change of plans meant telling the only person in the world that I want him, in whatever ways he’ll have me. What then?”

“Him?” Jared squeaks, his heart growing twelve sizes bigger until his rib cage could crack with the pressure of it.

“Yeah,” Jensen says, soft and just for them to hear. “Him.”

They stare at each other across the space of the kitchen. Jared’s hands shake as they hold the pizza cutter.

“I’d---I’d say have a seat. And eat up. Because we’ve got snow frolicking to do.”

Jared doesn’t really know what the fuck kind of response that’s supposed to say, but Jensen takes it with a solemn nod and a small smile, and sits at the kitchen table, taking it all in, down to the small laptop Jared set up at the window sill, with a selection of Christmas movies showing in the display window.

“You did all this…for me?”

Jared tries to shrug and look casual about it, but he can’t hide how much how very non-casual it is. It really is everything but casual.

“You know…” Jensen squints at the lights display again, eyes flicking over the mistletoe. “You’re kind of a sap.”

“And you’re kind of a dick.”

“Mom’s going to be thrilled to hear that I’m so well taken care of.”

Jared nods. “Of course she will. Your mom loves me. Now, Christmas Story is about to start, or should we switch over to Die Hard?”

He sees Jensen fake contemplate, as if John McClane could possibly lose the contest for Best Christmas Movie ever, and Jared clicks the play button on the computer without further ado, just as Jensen helps himself to a slice of Hawaiian, dipping the crust in the Nutella. Jared groans and points out disgusting that is, and when Jensen’s whip crack of a laugh fills the kitchen, Jared hurts with how badly he wants to kiss the sound right out of his mouth, positive it’s sweeter than Nutella itself.

They eat in silence, hardly paying attention to the movie, stealing small glances when the other isn’t looking, and grinning to themselves each time they’re caught. It’s a very new yet familiar game of hide and seek, and it’s hard, Jared realizes, sussing out _his_ Jensen to this one that’s replaced him, a Jensen that’s quiet, bordering on shy. Not that Jared doesn’t appreciate it, as he so often has a hard time getting Jensen to shut up with his sarcasm and constant jokes, but it’s still a strange sensation.

This whole day has been, when he thinks about it.

They finish the food and abandon the dishes for later, bundling up in sweaters and snow pants and Jared does not complain when Jared helps loop a long scarf about his neck, just tries not to gasp at the sensation of Jensen’s fingers gently brushing against his neck and jaw. Jensen, little shit that he is, tightens the scarf to the point of bordering-on-noose and when Jared pretends to making a strangled choking noise, Jensen throws his head back in laughter, smile stretching wide, eyes crinkling and Jared thinks _there you are_ as if he’d just won the game of kind of hide ‘n’ seek.

\--

They stand with their arms folded a half hour later, still not close enough to touch, still playing hide n seek, looking at their masterpiece.

“This is a hideous snowman.” Jensen decides.

“He has your eyes.”

Jared gets a laugh for that one, and he’s turning to comment further on the snowman resemblance when a huge hunk of snow goes _thwap_ onto his face, and he hears Jensen cackling and running for the trees in the backyard for shelter.

“Oh that is it!” Jared shouts, and he tears after Jared, ready to play fight just like they did when they were kids, when Jared was seven and Jensen was nine, as if nothing had changed, as if everything had changed.

They throw snowballs until Jared’s blinking snowflakes out of his eyes and his shoulder his sore from hurling. Jensen’s not even packing them into balls anymore, just playing dirty and flinging snow wherever and whenever he can, wheezing with laughter as it lands in Jared’s mouth and hair, making him sputter.

Jared settles for just tackling Jensen straight into a snow bank, yelling as they roll and tussle, gasping for air and getting snow in return. Jensen pins Jared in the snow, and Jared’s shirt is rucked up and the cold snow is right on his spine but for the life of him Jared can’t feel it, because Jensen’s looking at him, just _looking_ at him like he’s hungry and sated and indecisive all in one blow.

His breath hitches in his belly as Jensen leans forward and brushes their noses together, like earlier, except the moment is not so precarious as before, more desperate, more sure. Jensen’s eyelids have drooped to the point where he looks half-asleep, pupils dilated, mouth red and open, breathing hard around a half smile. There’s snow in his hair, standing in contrast to the green of his eyes, the nut brown of his freckles. His gaze does that same drag down to Jared’s mouth that it had done before, only now it’s entirely purposeful and planned. Only now, Jared knows exactly what it means, and exactly what to do about it.

 _Oh_ , he thinks softly, _oh._ And wastes absolutely no time in yanking Jensen in by the flaps of his coat, pulling him down into the freezing cold snow drift on top of him, bringing their mouths together in a single, swift kiss.

It’s the gentleness of it that truly hits Jared, strikes him to his core until he’s made of nothing but want, down to the very marrow of him. When he’d envisioned kissing Jensen it’d always been hot and hungry but this feels…delicate, for lack of a better word. Jensen swooping downwards for a slow kiss and then back up for air, then down again, until the tension between them snaps and Jared’s licking up into Jensen’s mouth like he’ll die if he doesn’t, the sensation of his warm mouth a delicious pressure until Jared can’t breathe for loving Jensen.

He’s the gayest fucking cliché in the world, and right now he couldn’t care less that he is.

“Did you really think I didn’t know?” Jensen murmurs into Jared’s mouth, darting upwards for a brief second to kiss the freezing tip of his nose, the mole on his cheek.

“I am an idiot,” Jared blurts, intent on nothing apart from getting that mouth back on his, making an honest man out of that mouth, whatever that expression means. “I am an idiot and I was scared and you had girlfriends.”

“I did have girlfriends.” Jensen says, like he’s trying hard not to laugh at Jared, like Jared is something _adorable_.

“I thought you just wanted to be friends!”

“And here I was, thinking I was so blatantly obvious and blatantly gay in giving you all of my frequent flier miles…”

“Look. I was stupid. I am stupid. I am stupid in love with you. So just…forgive me, shut up, and kiss me.” Jared whines, actually starting to feel the snow seeping into all his clothes.

“Bossy.” Jensen snarks, hovering just over where Jared wants him most.

“Hey, if I’m going to freeze to death it better be in the pursuit of getting laid…” He mutters through chattering teeth.

“Did I say anything about getting laid?” Still hovering, smiling like he’s got Jared right where he wants him, the smug _bastard_.

“It was heavily implied. Fine print. Surely you read the fine print.”

“Must have missed it.”

“Mmm.”

They emerge from the snow bank some time later, at Jensen’s insistence that as fun as this is, pneumonia or frostbite is not worth dying for. Jared casually suggests hot chocolate as a way to chase away the cold.

“I’d like that.” Jensen nods, before turning a grin that is something lecherous in Jared’s direction. “But if all else fails, I can think of better ways to warm up.”

The hot chocolate gets abandoned before it even starts to cool, but something tells Jared that Jensen doesn’t really mind.

\--

_fin._

_\--_


End file.
